


wolf skull

by TeaPlease



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shibari, Smut, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4340537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaPlease/pseuds/TeaPlease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shameless smut prac. I neeeverrrr finished. probably WILL never finish but enjoy to heart's content.<br/>dragon age inquistion was not made by me, characters don't belong to me JUSTTTTT fictional mishaps. all bioware's stuff.<br/>enjoy! leave... comments or something idk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wolf skull

Solas found that his lover’s enthusiasm in regards to their relationship was hard to keep up with.

It sounded very reminiscent to the sentiments of older men (which he was, but that wasn’t the point) in his head. Lavellan was young- so young- for her years, with a sort of frothing energy that was nearly palpable. Even upon first meeting Solas had known, somewhere in his head, that she would pose a problem for his firm objective. She’d be a complication in the end, a casualty in his own bull-headed efforts. He did not know when he’d fallen so hard for her, such a sweet creature, such a lively spirit. He did not know how he’d been able to more or less satisfy her needs, her desires. She was very--- well.

Imaginative was the most fitting for the ideas that blossomed in her mind. Solas would be sitting, simple, quiet, in his makeshift “room” of sorts and she’d siddle up with lust in her aura and teeth chewing her lower bottom lip.

“Ma’vhenan,” she’d murmur and his heart would already beat, the air a little crisper as he breathed in.

“Da’len.”

Her hand would be outstretched, fingers wiggling. “Garas.” In those moments, she was so simple. The flow of her words, the excited garble, was absent. He’d shiver, stand, and follow her to wherever she wished- all’s well if it was private. They’d done fantastic things in areas situated in high-traffic halls and rooms that the mage would wonder if she had a particular enjoyment for the open. In those moments, there wouldn’t be any concern for the age gap, the secrets, the hurt and pain. They lingered, like smudged fingerprints on walls, but so faint he could barely see them. All that remained was throbbing pleasure, the memory of her mewls, her giggles.

Lavellan took charge when she desired, but was more of a helpful voice for Solas. Directions, encouragements. She enjoyed her commanding role being challenged and broken- he was more than happy to oblige. It was always so interesting to see where their escapades would lead next.

 

___

 

He hadn’t been expecting leather.

Or a collar.

And certainly not the array of---- things that thereby followed.

The thought that boggled him was firstly where had she obtained such items much less gotten the gal to request them, purchase them? Then, how, how how how long had this idea been running around in that inexplicable little head of hers, and lastly, what would ever make her think he’d be inclined to subject himself to such foolery. He was no Iron Bull, hardly similar in the ways of Dorian’s experimental adolescence. The torrid sexual histories of many of his companions held tales similar to the one he was faced with. A woman (or a man) with- behold!- a fine leather or silken material and a proposition on their tongue. Seeing her saddened by what had to be his incredulous expression worked more wonders than a salesman’s script.

“Undress,” she said, and he complied.

“Sit down,” she said, and he sat with little hesitance. It was cold in the room. He felt his body burning. “Now wait.” She walked away.

He did a lot of that. His patience was remarkable in regards to time’s incomprehensible tick. But this was different. A burn had settled in his stomach, clenched heat like acid backup rushing from the pit up his esophagus. It spread to his chest. Dissipated. Solas realized his breathing was unsteady. Nerves. He was nervous. A foolish reaction. With more than anything he knew that Lavellan, with all her sweetness and quick sense, would never hurt him. She wouldn’t have such explicit intentions.

Lavellan returned then, dressed in riding gear as if embarking on a mission. Her robes ended short of her high- higher than usual- boots. Brown leather, dark buckles, steel-tipped. Her pants stopped just above her hips. The tunic she wore was tucked in and emphasized her chest, neckline cut deep. It was certainly a sight- but it was muddled with confusion. Lavellan was certainly not helping things, face calm lit only by a smile.

  
“What are you doing? You’re dressed.” Voicing his thoughts seemed best. Solas was tempted to rise, but the sudden figure standing there, with small hands on his thighs, weight firm, stopped him.   
  


“Only shortly.” She kissed him gently and her lips quickly trailed to his ear. She took the tip between her lips and sucked, Solas squirming. “I’m going,” the young elf mumbled, “To fetch some meat and supplies from higher up the mountains. And then, I will return. But while I am doing that…”

The dog collar clapsed around his neck easily. He’d noticed her hands moving, but the collar at her belt barely registered. The leather was tight against his neck and the silver buckles were cold. She tugged experimentally while he was still baffled and giggled. “Perfect. Your neck is so thin, I’m glad I gauged it right.”

_ howlonghadshebeenplanning _

 

Before objections could jump in his throat, she had her lips over his and something tight around his cock. Solas pulled away to see the object that rubbed against his member and frowned at the foreign object.

“It’s a ring. For your dreaded wolf.”

He made a further disgruntled expression at her, eyebrows knitting. “Explain the plan of action before I call this thing to quits,” he demanded. Much to her amusement. Lavellan clucked her tongue and crouched before her elder, lips lowering to press kisses to his kneecaps.

“I explained already. I want to have more control.” Her hands were doing things again. Fingers dancing to curl around the crease where his knee and thigh met, tracing former bruises from battle. “I want to leave you wanting. I want you to long for me. I want you to be the one”

She kissed his leg again.

“Wracked by need. Distracted by it.”

 

Though distractions were already being had, Solas looked down at the mischievous woman with pursed lips. Blood was circulating again. She smiled and he breathed out, eyes closing as he succumbed to her fingers and lips.

She produced more items.

Solas found himself, ten minutes later, tied, bound, and shaking. The rope was mainly focused on his chest. The distinct technique and effort of tying and binding the mage made Solas briefly consider that this had been in her head for a while. The ropes went up and crossed at his upper back, locking down to secure the twice, thrice looped parts. At first, it had been fine. Solas was very skilled in other areas and freeing himself from mere hemp was nothing that hadn’t happened before. But then she secured it. The rope pulled tight, the mage having to straighten his posture with a pinched expression to relieve some of the stress the rope caused. He held his arms behind his back, rope fastened slightly below his wrists, as any other option would be painful and undoable. Pulling him back was the long addition of rope that connected to his bound feet, furthering the straight posture. A memory of his lover’s clan’s expertise in such rope-tying came to mind. The woman in front of him had a wicked smile that seemed to read that she knew what he was thinking. Her parting gift was the taking of his eyesight and voice, muffled and blindfolded.

 

She left.

and Solas was left.

And Time passed.

 

\----

 

He was disgustingly aroused. Thoughts flickered behind his eyelids like low-class romance novels, one of Varric’s more seedy drafts. His mind was dizzied. His body felt electric. His cock was aching, erection stiff and bobbing in the cold air of the Inquisitor’s bedroom. He’d shifted several times and had only managed to make himself more high strung than anything.

The ropes constricted. He couldn’t vocalize. Meditations became fantasies of him and her, growling and kissing and muffled everything oh the exasperation was piling on him. He was wearing. It had been hours, the sky had changed as he felt the beams that once shined across the room lessen. Solas had, with efforts to remove himself, only ran his mind in tight, teeny eight-pattern formations filled with sex and lust and sweat and her. 

Solas’ heightened sensitivity was inversely related to his awareness. The sound of the door closing nearly made him jump, if he wasn’t so tense already. The weight of her footsteps was instantly recognizable; he tensed with anticipation. He could feel her presence, flinched as her fingers gently moved over the smoothe globe of his head. Solas made a muffled noise with the gag successfully warping anything he wanted to really communicate. Lavellan giggled lightly and stepped away. The blindfold was removed. In all her lithe glory and might, his Inquisitor stood before him- coat gone, boots off, framing her flushed face and lusting expression.

 

“You’ve been very good. You barely moved,” she commented, leaning forward to lick a thin stripe up his neck. Solas’s answering moan was shaky and pitched to resemble something more animal than elven.

Lavellan laughed.

A finger hooked on one of loops binding Solas’s arms and tugged, the man tensing in response. Everything held strong, the cock ring had obviously worked… “Did you miss me, ma’vhenan?” the woman murmured, stepping away to begin undressing, eyes trained on her lover’s face. He nodded, sweat beginning to bead just at his brow. It was oddly endearing, Lavellan suddenly thought as she removed her trousers, boots and socks already aside.

A hand wrapped around Solas’s shaft. The skin was already faintly shining with the leaks of pent up arousal finally coming out. It was cute. Solas’s tension acquiesced, body giving in to her long strokes as Lavellan busied herself with lavishing every available part of Solas’s shoulder and chest with kisses and bites.

 

This was going to be a long evening.


End file.
